I Never Chose Death As My Profession
by Fluricity
Summary: So naive he was back then. Thinking that he had seen the brunt of the world's horrors from a young age. Just because he was abused. Every day he cursed himself for checking the mail. In reality he knew such a wish was futile. Even if he conveniently forgot to check it they would have still sunk their claws in. He's seen it with his own very eyes. There was no escape.
"Brother?"

"Yes?"

"Should we go check the mail?"

"I suppose that would be for the best."

For the best. He scoffed at that statement. So naive he was back then. Thinking that he had seen the brunt of the world's horrors from a young age. Just because he was abused. Every day he cursed himself for checking the mail. In reality he knew such a wish was futile. Even if he conveniently forgot to check it they would have still sunk their claws in. He's seen it with his own very eyes. There was no escape.

"That's a really cool seal! We should so open it."

"Rose, we aren't going to open the letter, it's addressed to the professor. Although I will admit the seal is fascinating. But I'm sure if it was of any importance we would be the first to know."

He had been too trusting of the professor. If he had known then what he knew now he would have opened the letter and ran away with his little sister. Saved them both from the dangerous world that had apparated in front of them.

"I have news for this family. Next month we will move to California."

"Wait? Why?"

"I found a new job. The university has offered to pay for my research. I can't neglect an opportunity as fine as this."

If he was wiser he would have recognized the sound of resignation in his late father's voice. He would have known that there really was no job. Well at least no job at the university. In retrospect, red flags were everywhere. The second the professor took him off the research, he should have known something was amiss. When they moved to a house a ways away from civilization, he should have known. But he foolishly trusted his adopted father. And now he paid the price. Just as he has every second since that night.

That night. He remembered it so vividly.

He had been a light sleeper from a very young age. Years of being acute to every small shift from the movements outside his door signaling a beating had long honed his ability to detect noise in his sleep, even though it's been years since this was a necessary skill, it was ingrained within him. So naturally a noise that sounded like a gunshot would have woken him up.

And when he saw the figure looming at his door, his stomach instinctively dropped.

"Professor?"

"Professor, what are you doing?"

"Shut up."

"Who-?"

He still could still feel the cold of the gun as it spread open his mouth. The way his eyes watered ever so slightly as the cold metal pressed against his throat.

"Now listen to me carefully kid. We are going to go for a little field trip to your dad's study."

After that, he didn't remember the many of the specifics. At some point he saw his father's corpse. He remembered going over and lurching at the sight of blood and brain matter on the walls.

"Get moving or that will be you too."

It was in his the professor's study where he made the horrifying discovery. It all made sense there. The hushed phone calls he sometimes heard from the professor's study. The long absences. Now that he knew that the professor was working for them it all made sense.

"No. No, the professor would have never done this!"

"He did. And now you will cooperate with us like him. And you know how I know you will? We have the girl."

.

And they still had "the girl" as far as he was aware. Granted, he hasn't seen his younger sister since the day prior. But after what he's seen, he wouldn't doubt that they had her. And wherever she was, he could only pray that they kept her in a better condition than him.

By gunpoint they led him to a van where they tied up and blindfolded him. The long car ride was accompanied by a disturbing silence. He felt that there were people in the back with him, but they never spoke. They didn't remove the blindfold until they took him to a holding cell. From there men in black and orange jackets subjected him to an endless amount of questioning. Most of them focusing on his ability to comprehend the professor's research. Any sign of his cooperation faltering was met with harsh beatings, deprived meals, and threats of violence towards his sister.

He did not know how long they kept him there. But one day the man who took him the first day came in. His cold, blue eyes stared at him for a long time.

"Looks like you're lucky. We aren't going to kill you as long as you cooperate. It turns out your work with Mr. Sartre will come in handy. We will give you a new identity if you work for us, your death will be faked. As far as the world is concerned, Erhard Muller will be dead. And one wrong move on your part and you will be as well. As for the girl, I'm sure we'll find another use for her. We can always use more sinners and I'm sure the virus in her blood will provide interesting results at the very least. After all, that's what we did with the children of the last of those who crossed us."

Sinners. The very idea made him shudder. Ever since he read the files about it, the image of small children in tubes haunted his mind. The second he imagined his poor sister in such a position, he immediately submitted.

Which brought him to where he currently stands. In a small room waiting for that same man to walk through those doors and present him with his new life.

These were his last few moments as Erhard Muller. These were his last few moments of legally being a child still. These were his last few moments of what limited freedom he had, because he was one of Delphi now and death would be his profession. Whether he chose it or not.


End file.
